


MET, in the Afternoon

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Art, Comfort, Double Date, F/M, Fighting, Flirting, Friendship, Had to be done, Humor, Hydra, I could write this forever, Idiots, Kissing, Lovers, Romance, Silly, Skye is the other Consultant, The Consultant, UST, liars, lots of flirting, no seriously, utterly convinced the Cellist is not a nice lady
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:34:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1666580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skoulson go to the MET, over and over again while she works as a consultant for Stark Industries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Picasso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony/Pepper and Skoulson could go on double dates forever as far as I'm concerned.

"Head of Stark Industries," Skye said, brushing her hand against the business cards. "Does it feel like the weight of the world?"

Pepper Pots sat across from her at her desk, her hands clasped in front of her.

"Tony wants to hire you to try a few exploits," she said, "On the ULTRON System."

"As a consultant," Skye said, nodding and smiling. She was trying not to fidget, looking around the office. Looking at Pepper's expensive suit. Her polished Pepper-yness. The flowers sitting on her desk. Probably from her superhero boyfriend.

"And, Director Coulson," Pepper added, recapturing her gaze. "He can spare you right now?"

"I guess so," Skye said. "To be honest, I think he just did it to be nice."

"I just adore Phil," Pepper said.

Skye smiled at her, frowned slightly. "Great."

"He's one of the few people that will stand up to Tony," she admitted. Turning the file on her desk towards Skye, she got back to business. "You'll need to sign these, of course. Our standard consultant agreement."

"Yeah, sure," Skye said. "Can't wait to get my hands on all that technology."

"Yes," said Pepper. "Technology."

 

****

 

"Really?!" Pepper said at Tony. "Really?!!"

Tony just looked at her shrugged. "It wasn't what it looked like."

He was sitting on the couch trying *trying* to unwind with her at the end of her workday, because he was always working and *she* was always trying to make him not work.

"Then why did it need to look *like*?" she asked with frustration.

"I was just showing her how to fire the repulsor rays."

"Yes," Pepper said, nodding. "I remember when you showed *me* how to fire the repulsor rays, and also the intern from MIT how to fire the repulsor rays," she said, heels clicking on the floor. "And then there was that Brazilian bikini model," she yelled behind her. "She was soooo interested in repulsor rays!"

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To get Captain America to give me naked shield-throwing lessons!" she yelled down from the top of the stairs.

 

****

 

"A.C.!" Skye said, with a smile of pure delight. "It's so good to see you!"

"Skye," he said from her screen, smiling quietly back at her. "How are things going?"

"Well, as you can see, this room is amazing," she said motioning behind her. "The view is to die for. The technology is hawt," she added. "But what about you? How is the team? How are team things?" 

"Getting along, like you'd expect," he said. "May got bored and switched everyone's lanyards. Koenig didn't take it very well."

Skye chuckled. "Any chance you're coming up to the city?" she asked, biting her lower lip just slightly.

Coulson's brows knotted and he actually turned in his chair and looked around, before looking back at her. "I'm sorry, come again?"

"I'm just not used to being around people. Like this," she said, raising an eyebrow that said youknowwhatimeanrite?

"Stark," Coulson said with disdain. He leaned forward, put his arms on his desk. "Did he do something inappropriate?"

"A.C., come on," she said smiling coyly. "He's my boss." She blinked back at him.

"You're a consultant," he said, annoyed, not getting it. Or maybe kind of getting it, and pretending not to. "That's just an agreement," he said smugly. "It's not a relationship."

"Right, a relationship," she said, stuffing down a smile. "He *did* show me his repulsor rays," she added pertly.

Coulson considered this, sat back in the chair. 

"That's stage two," he said, setting his jaw. "Okay. What are you doing tomorrow for lunch?"

 

****

 

"Phil!" Pepper said, smiling bigger than Skye had seen her smile for, like, the entire time she was here. Right at Phil Coulson.

"Pepper," he said. And he did that *thing*. But, with her.

"You look great, how have you been? I can see you've been working out," she said.

He just nodded, shifted his weight.

"You see that?" Tony said, standing next to Skye, leaning to bump her shoulder. "She never smiles like that for me. Positively beaming." 

Skye looked back at him with zero sympathy.

"That's because I like nice men," Pepper said drolly to Tony as she walked by him.

"I'm nice," Tony started, motioned around him at all the stuff.

"Skye has been helping us work out the kinks in our ULTRON System," Tony said. "Right Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir," came the wearied computerized voice.

Coulson looked over at Skye.

"I came to borrow Agent Skye for the afternoon," he started. "So, I think we'll, you know."

"Oh, so soon?" asked Pepper. 

"Phil!" Tony said. "You never come back in town... from the dead," he said putting his hand on Coulson's shoulder. Which got him a stare. "We have to hang out. I insist."

"I think that's brilliant!" said Pepper.

"No?" said Coulson.

Skye just started laughing. Crazy people.

 

****

Tony sat with Skye on the bench at the MET as Coulson and Pepper discussed the art in front of them. Skye heard Burne-Jones whispered.

"Do you see that?" he asked. "How they're just engrossed in one another? I just have to constantly do stuff to get her to converse with me that way."

"Maybe," Skye suggested bluntly, "It's because he's interested in what she's interested in?"

"Good point," Tony replied. "Hey, do you think it's weird that your boss was going to bring you to the MET?"

"What?" Skye said, just looking back at Tony like the ridiculous man he was.

"Okay, tip," he said, leaning over. "MET in the afternoon means something. Unless you bring your mother. It's like your day off, seems harmless, then he gets you in front of Picasso's La Douleur, starts talking about all the variances in the shades of blue..."

"Wait," Skye said. "You've done that before," she called him out.

"Yes, of course!" he shrugged without shame.

"So, you're *her* boss?" Skye started. "Doesn't look that way to me."

Tony looked over at Skye. Positively stared at her.

"You're a very smart girl," he remarked, sideways smile. "And *he*," Tony added, nodding towards Coulson, "Isn't your boss."

Skye just looked up at him with her big brown eyes.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, you're doing that thing with the eyes, again." He said looking away. "Averting. That's how you got me in trouble with Pepper the last time."

"Really?" she asked.

 

****

 

"Lunch was fabulous," Pepper said, walking next to Coulson, well, Phil. She always thought of him as Phil.

They were all walking in the park together, Tony and Skye off somewhere and her and Phil? Still on the path. Yes, still on the path.

"But then, you always know where the best places are," she continued.

"I try to keep up," he said.

"So, Skye!" Pepper said.

"Yeah," Phil replied.

"She's really, very talented," she added, getting the formalities out of the way, "And also, very beautiful! And young. Charming..."

Coulson just nodded back at her, totally in agreement.

"Phil?" she asked.

"Pepper?" he said, looking over at her.

"MET, in the afternoon? Followed by lunch at Aureole and a walk in Central Park?"

"What's wrong with the MET?" he shrugged.

"Phil," Pepper said giving him the look. "Tony took me to the MET one afternoon and showed me a filthy Picasso," she lowered her voice. "And we almost did it in the emergency stairwell!"

"I wasn't going to show her the Picasso!" Coulson refuted, a man accused.

"And, he was my *boss*," she added, on mute.

"Huh."

Pepper took a deep breath, stopped walking. Looked at Phil. He was wearing a new smile.

"That seems to have worked out," he said. "Pretty well."

 

****

 

"Okay," Pepper said. "This is the last one, I'm not doing another. Three...two..."

Skye and Pepper did a tequila shot together and turned towards each other and laughed.

"Boys are dumb," Skye said.

"Yes and also, strangely, hot," Pepper laughed.

"Hot and dumb," Skye returned.

"Omigosh, I want hot and dumb so bad right now," Pepper grinned, "Where did they go?"

Skye looked around the club, stretched her neck to see if they were still on the dance floor or outside smoking their cigars trying to seem cool.

"I can't see them," she said. "Wait. Who is hot and who is dumb?" she was serious. "Because, Coulson is hot."

"Phil *is* pretty hot," Pepper said, agreeing diplomatically. "But Tony is the best, ahh, the best at...talking..."

"What?!" Skye exclaimed.

Pepper leaned her head back in the booth. "I know, I know, he won't shut up. But, he reads *everything* and his imagination," she looked so excited. "The stuff he comes up with. It's like this wild, unplugged poetry, and there is never enough or too much."

Skye looked on in awe. "Okay, respect," she said.

"Don't worry," Pepper said, "Phil won't be dumb forever."

"He's just such a gentleman," Skye said throwing up her arms, emphatically, confounded.

"Yes, and that's why we love him," Pepper replied. "But, he won't always be a gentleman."

"You think?" asked Skye, turning to her, nestling into the booth.

"Oh, I would hope not," Pepper laughed. "For your sake."

 

****

 

"I think that we both have to be gentlemen here," Tony said.

"They're probably getting drunk and making fun of us," Coulson said plainly.

"Agreed." Tony said. 

They were on the balcony of the nightclub. It was late. They were both kind of bored but the girls were having too much fun for them to leave. It was a real trap, unlike any their enemies set before them.

"This looks like male bonding, right?" Coulson said.

"You're the secret agent," Tony replied. "You tell me."

"Can we maybe come to an impasse about this whole *death* thing?" Coulson said. "Is that why you brought Skye on as a consultant?"

"It was an opportunity," Tony said, looking over at him.

"Well, if it's any comfort, I just wanted to see what you were up to," he said.

"Doing Fury's good work after all..."

"No, just what I would do," he said. "And I heard you showed Skye your repulsor rays." 

Tony just rolled his eyes and looked at him.

"SHIELD may be gone, but I can assure you, your entire file is in my head," Coulson said.

"Phil," Tony replied, "Give me a break. You could've given our waiter a play-by-play of everything she put in her mouth."

"That obvious then," Coulson confessed looking up at the sky.

"Yup."

 

****

"A.C.," she smiled, opening her bedroom door at Avengers Tower seeing Coulson opening his door across from hers.

"Skye," he smiled back.

"Headed home, sir?" she asked.

"I really feel like you didn't get to see the MET," he replied, taking a step forward. "In all its glory."

"Important?" she fake-asked.

"Absolutely critical," he fake-said.

"Sounds good," Skye said. 

"Tony asked me to work out the kinks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/483355


	2. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skoulson and parallels with Steve and Tasha.

"I did have a girl, once," he paused. "But, I waited too long."

He squinted into the noonday sun, watched the light hit the top of the pool. 

"What happened to her?" asked Skye.

"She changed, with the world," the corner of his mouth caught. "I stayed the same."

Skye turned over on the beach chair and turned her head to the side, adjusted her sunglasses, checked her tan line on her bikini bottom.

"Sad," she paused, thinking on it. "So, that's it?" she asked. "You're just giving up?"

"No. Didn't say that," he said, bringing one knee up on the chair and swinging his arm across it. "I dunno. I'm just a little...awkward."

"A little?" she guffawed. 

"Okay...," he said, sounding kind of put off.

"Steve, I'm teasing you," she said, rolling on her side to look at him. She flipped her sunglasses up atop her head so he could see her eyes. "See? Teasing."

"Right," he said, glancing away. "Where no one is direct or actually says what they really mean. Got it," he screwed the top off the bottle of water next to him, took a drink. "It's the dating milieu, I'm catching on," he added.

"Sorry," she said. She meant it. "However, I do think it's kind of cool to be old-fashioned," she turned on her back, pushed the sunglasses back down over her eyes.

"You do?"

She wasn't looking at his face, but she could tell he was smiling.

"Yeah. It's...nice."

A pair of footsteps clacked across the rooftop deck the towards them. Skye heard them stop next to her, but couldn't be bothered to move while she was soaking in the sun.

"Hey, look," came Coulson's voice. "You and Captain America, hanging out by the pool."

Skye smiled. His tone was dry, but overly cheerful, like it always was when he was around Steve.

"Mr. Director, I didn't know you were in town," said Rogers, leaning over to shake his hand. "Throw a suit on, come hang out."

"No thanks," Coulson replied quickly.

"His legs would probably blind you," Skye said. "It's for the best."

Coulson just gave her a quizzical look, glanced back at Steve.

Steve was kind of smiling, like he'd discovered something.

"Just in town for the afternoon on business, thought I'd drop by and say 'hi'," Coulson said.

"Wait," she said, getting up and grabbing her robe. "I'll walk you out."

They began walking back indoors, she turned and waved over her shoulder, "Later, Steve!"

"Skye," he said. Watching them walk away. 

Yeah, she definitely did like old fashioned. 

He decided to swim a hundred laps or so before getting back to work.

 

****

 

"In town for business," Skye said to Coulson when they reached the elevator. "What kind?"

"I came to get a spray-tan, so I wouldn't legally blind you. But, you ruined the surprise." He shrugged.

She laughed. 

"What if I took the afternoon off?" she smiled, taking a step towards him.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather hang out by the pool with Captain America?" he asked.

"It's not like I asked Captain Abs back there to rub me down or anything," she blinked.

"Good."

She raised her eyebrows, just looked back at him. Waiting.

"Oh, yes," he said. "Sure. I'll just wait downstairs," he said. "While you change," he motioned to the elevator. "Out of that tiny bikini," he muttered under his breath.

She wiggled her fingers at him in a wave.

 

****

The elevator stopped one floor down. 

Black Widow got on, pushed a button. It started again.

"Coulson," she said.

"Tasha," he replied.

"How are things at the agency?" she asked.

"New," he said. "How are things at the Avengers?"

"Intrusive," she said, smiling slightly. Because, he would know what that meant to her.

They continued in silence.

"I can't crack him," she finally said. "He's so square."

Coulson looked at her. "I think you mean an old-fashioned romantic?"

"Whatever," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, you get that, right?" She turned and looked into his eyes.

"Me?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah," she nodded. "You understand it."

"I'm torn between being insulted and flattered," Coulson huffed. "Help me out here."

"Be flattered," she smirked.

"Better," he said, giving her a look.

"This is me," she said, when the elevator stopped.

"I'll think on it," he said, smirking. Before the doors closed.

 

****

"Where are we going?" she asked as he drove Lola.

"The MET," he said, smiling fondly at her. "Where else?"

It had become their little habit. When he came into town.

They would wander around, settle on a piece of art. It would stir the conversation up. She found it interesting, really. It was a curious way to get to know someone, but she saw the merit in it. And she figured the alternative was that she wouldn't get to see him otherwise. At least not until her consultant contract was up.

 

****

 

"She's beautiful," Skye said. Looking at the note. "It's called Winter, by Jean Antoine Houdon."

The dark bronze statue of the woman was partially shrouded, partially soft, inviting. It felt very vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

"Tasha asked me about Rogers," he started.

Skye tried not to smile. The art had spoken to him, apparently.

"About what?" she asked.

"She said that Rogers was tough to crack, that he was *square*," he said.

"No way," Skye said defensively. "He's just old-fashioned. She just doesn't know what to do with that."

"What do you mean?" Coulson asked.

"Tasha is all prickly defenses and shuttered windows," she motioned to the statue. "I mean, just look at her!"

Coulson smiled.

"She better get on it if she wants something to happen," Skye started. "Because that guy does *not* move fast," she said, shaking her head at Coulson.

"Should he?" he asked, putting his thumb to his lower lip.

"Look at her," Skye said, motioning to the statue. "She's hiding, but she doesn't want to stay hidden. She wants someone to lift away the shroud, to really see her. But, it can't be just anyone. They have to be a little daring," she continued. "Because, she is a little bit terrifying, with mysteries and magic underneath."

"I agree," he said, staring at Skye. "She's terrifying."

"Did she ask you for advice?" Skye suddenly considered the whole point of this conversation. "Tasha?"

"Yes," he said.

"Because, you're square?" she teased.

"You must be thinking about buying me lunch today," Coulson warned.

Skye hooked her arm around his. 

"You would never do that to me, would you A.C.?" she asked, looking up at him.

"No."

They started walking back towards the entrance.

"You're gonna have to tell him to storm the castle," Skye said.

"I'll think on it," he said.

 

****

Rogers was hanging out in the common room when they got back, just done with gym, towel thrown around his neck.

"You two sure look cheerful," he said, grinning at them.

"We went to the MET," Skye said. "And lunch. I'll see you later," she whispered to Coulson. He stared back at her, a lot longer than he needed to. She finally turned and walked off towards her room.

"So," Cap said, when she was gone. "Skye's an interesting girl."

"Yeah, she is," Coulson replied, putting his hands in his pockets.

"You go to the MET often?" he asked.

"When I'm in town," Coulson smiled.

"Are you ever going to ask her out?"

"I'm sorry?" Coulson shot back.

"Are you ever going to ask her out," he said standing. "Or are you just going to keep making eyes at her like that?"

"She's my subordinate," Coulson said, flatly.

"Okay," Cap said, shrugging. "Not actually my business. I don't know."

Coulson felt relieved. 

"No, actually, I do," he continued. "Because, if I had a girl that pretty and that sweet look at me like that, I'd definitely ask her out."

"Maybe you're just not looking hard enough?" Coulson started.

"What does that mean?" Steve said, chuckling. "You're going to turn this around on me now?"

"Sometimes, you just have to lift the veil," Coulson said. 

"Do whatever you want," Steve said, not willing to have this be about him, or entertain cryptic remarks. "See you around."

Cap headed for the elevator.

Coulson stood there, tapping his foot, staring down the hallway.

 

****

Ding. The elevator stopped. Tasha got on. Pushed a button. 

The doors closed and they were moving again.

"Rogers," she said slyly.

"Tasha," he said curtly.

She was wearing her hair curled today. She hadn't done that in awhile. Why was he thinking about that right now, anyway? Coulson. He shook his head.

"That new receptionist," Tasha started. "I think she's taken a shine to your stilted charm and anachronistic sense of fashion."

"What's wrong with my fashion?" he asked, annoyed.

"Some girls like high-waisted pants on a man," she said dryly.

Steve rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, looked at the doors. Why was Tasha always trying to set him up with every girl that walked through Avengers Tower?

Oh. He felt silly. Smiled.

"Tasha," he said very directly. "Ever been to the MET?"

"Sure," she said, turning to him, frowning, blinking. "Lots of times."

He was grinning at her. Why was he doing that?

She turned away, looked towards the elevator doors. 

"Wanna go again?"

Ding.

"This is me," she said, continuing to frown, turning to look back at him. 

What was going on?

"Last chance," he said, smiling, holding out his hands.

"Sure."

"Don't sound so excited," he yelled as the doors closed in front of her puzzled face.

The corner of Tasha's mouth caught in a smile.

Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/202614?rpp=30&pg=1&ft=Winter%2c+by+Jean+Antoine+Houdon&pos=1


	3. The Hidden Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skoulson run into a doctor, an archer and a liar.

“Phil?”

The voice was choked. Came from behind them.

“Phillip Coulson?!” 

Higher now, but distressed. Wretched. Nearby. Even with the sounds of the New York streets around them.

Skye turned around scanning the crush of people in line outside of the MET.

There was a tall, thin woman with auburn hair and large eyes full of desolation, staring at them both on the sidewalk. But mostly, at Coulson.

Skye looked over at him. All the color had drained out from his face.

“Audrey,” he whispered, horrified.

The woman strode towards them, the other man following close on her heels. He looked in his fifties, balding. More than Coulson, anyway.

“What is this?” she said, sounding unhinged.

Coulson started, “Audrey, please,” he replied, taking a step towards her. “Let me explain…”

She brought her hands up and started hitting him on the chest, swinging hard.

“You are dead!” she yelled. “You are DEAD!”

Skye realized, pained, that this was his Cellist. The other man looked over at Skye, clearly confused but also not loving the attention they were receiving from the crowd.

“I’m sorry,” Coulson said, hugging her, so she couldn’t keep hitting him, or hurting herself. “I’m so sorry.”

Skye approached the other man, “Hi.” She extended her hand.

“Paul,” he said, smiling at her curiously, shaking it.

“Hi, Paul,” she said. “What do you think about taking this someplace more private?”  
“Yes. Good idea,” he replied.

**** 

Skye stared at the target in the training room. Her line of fire was way off. This was supposed to be a distraction, but it wasn’t helping. Just a spray of reminders that things were now far off the mark.

The afternoon had ended so ugly. Audrey, the Cellist, was torn apart. It was weird putting herself in her shoes. So, it wasn’t just that she was grieving all over again, it was that she was full of rage. Skye saw that. And so did Coulson.

Why hadn’t he told her? Is this what he did when things got too complicated? She didn’t want to believe that, but, that woman’s face. 

She hated being kept in the dark. She hated secrets, and the secret’s secrets. This reminded her of things before, when it had just been her in her van, looking for exploits within SHIELD.

The door swished open and she was pulled out of her thoughts. Clint Barton entered, nodded at her. He had his bow in his hand, stood in the lane next to her.  
“Jarvis, Session 12,” he requested.

“At your leisure,” said the smooth, clipped voice.

“If I hadn’t heard the door, I wouldn’t even know you were there,” she smirked. His footsteps had been so light.

“You work in the field enough,” he began, “You realize that saves you a lot of time.” He drew back his bow and in one fluid stroke hit the pop up target just as it clicked and rose.

“Probably saves your life, too,” said Skye.

“Yes,” he said, turning towards her. He cocked his head and then released the bow again, sideways and hit another target backed up another 15 feet, slightly to the right. “But, having the high point always gives you the advantage. Always. Lets you see things before they go into motion.”

Skye sighed and reloaded her weapon. “Doesn’t it get kind of lonely up there?” she asked.

Clint frowned slightly. “You learn when to come down, and when to go back up.”

Skye fired a shot. It sucked. “And when is that?” she asked, trying to hide her frustration.

“When it’s safe,” he half-smiled over his shoulder, released, hit the target further out.

****

“It's a thin line between monster and man. Sometimes, you don’t get to choose. And other times, you do.”

“I think I chose monster this time,” said Coulson, his head mostly somewhere else. Replaying the events of the afternoon. 

He was sitting on a stool in the lab at Avengers Tower, shoulders slumped. Staring back at Banner. Or, Banner’s lab’s wall.

“Yeah,” Banner said. “Know the feeling.” He turned from the readout on his holo panel to Coulson.

“Skye saw all of it,” Coulson said, blinking.

“The Consultant?” he asked.

Coulson just looked at him like, don’t you know what goes on around here?

“I don’t really pay attention to that stuff,” Banner said. “I mean, it doesn’t mean that much to me.”

Coulson cocked his head and gave Banner a don’t bullshit me look because I know Skye talks to everyone.

“Okay,” Banner confessed. “She came down and talked to me a few times. I just forgot her name. She’s got a sarcasm problem,” he added.

“Probably just teasing you,” Coulson said instructively. “That’s how she gets to know you. Probes around the edges, figures out whether you’re safe or scary.”

“Scary!” Banner chuckled, raising his hand.

Coulson took a deep breath. Banner stared over at him.

“I’m seeing Betty again,” Banner said slowly.

Coulson turned towards him frowning deeply. “No.” 

“Do your worst, Director,” Banner said, looking back down at his research. “I can’t give her up. It’s too late for that.”

*****

It was an etching. Not very big. Of a man, digging in the dirt. His two oxen resting in front of him with their plow. You could see the energy in his hands, the sense of discovery, of clutching the hidden thing he found to his heart. 

And she had only agreed to this because he was avoiding her and because this was a kind of higher language between them.

It scared her to look at it, what he chose for them to stand before, wonder at what it meant.

But then again, she hadn’t spoken to him in a full week, and that was saying something. He’d been here like clockwork since she’d started as Stark’s Consultant. Always an excuse at the ready. Always a reason to be in town on business. 

He’d taken her to the MET. Every time. He had constructed a language for them here. 

She had heard him speak Spanish once, in Peru. It was really pretty bad. But, speaking and understanding were two different things. He had an affinity for communication. 

And leaving the Playground knowing he had written something strange on the wall of the storage room had required her trust. He had told her and shared what Fury had revealed to him. In fact, that was why he had sent her to work for Stark.

To learn as much as she could about the alien language, through the ULTRON interface.

Now, she was regretting this, wondering if she had become too comfortable, hadn’t challenged him enough. Because, she was too fixated on him. He was at the center of everything and her feelings were a liability.

She was waiting for him to say something. It made her feel older than she was.

“You have every right to push me away.”

He left it there for her. But she knew him, and the tone of his voice had something else in mind. More to say.

“What I was,” he continued, trailing off. “She wouldn’t recognize me anymore.”

“Can’t have her figuring that out for herself, can we?” Skye asked sharply.

“I said I won’t keep secrets from you,” he replied. “I didn’t say I don’t keep secrets.” He frowned, stared at the etching.

“Guess you love the idea of saving the world more than you do her.”

“That’s not fair,” he said. Something unexpected rising inside of him. It felt familiar. A part of him before TAHITI. It was telling him to retreat, to let go.

“I wanted her to be able to move on, not get caught up in, this,” he said.

“While you’re digging around in there, searching,” she said, “Don’t pretend it’s for anyone but yourself.”

She turned and walked away.

****

“How did you manage to do that?” he asked, looking down at the burn on her hand.

“Trying to reach into the heart of a star. Much hotter than I expected,” she deadpanned.

“Nice.”

“Trying to make lunch,” she finally said tiredly when he didn’t take the bait.

“Well,” he said, handing her some burn cream, “You might want to stay away from fire when you’re distracted.”

“What is it like,” she said, taking the tube from him, “Keeping all of that hidden inside?”

He stopped his busywork and put his hand on his chin, rubbed it. Not sure how to answer and wondering if he even should. She was a SHIELD agent, after all.

“You don’t hide it from some people. The ones who can handle it. The ones who stick by you, even when. You know,” he paused. “You really screw things up.”

“Like leveling a city block,” she smirked.

“One example,” he smiled back.

“Others,” he considered, looking down at the floor. “Others you sometimes only tell them what they want to hear. Because, that’s all they’re capable of understanding.”

“So you can always stay in control,” she said, judging.

“No,” he chuckled. Kid. “No, it’s so they can believe they are.”

Skye thought about Audrey’s face, how she had lost it. How everything that she said, even after he’d explained, had been meant to tear him down. How she said, in the end, she had liked him better dead.

“Hey, you okay?” Banner asked.

She refocused on him. “Sorry. You’re right, I am distracted,” she tried to smile. 

It was unconvincing.

*****

He fired a round into the target, didn’t even flinch. Hard look on his face. It was a tight grouping. Right in the head.

He did another round. The heart.

“Somebody’s having a bad day,” came the voice from behind him.

“Barton,” Coulson replied stiffly. Reloaded.

“Takes a lot to get to you.”

Barton leaned against the wall, set his bow down.

Coulson's jaw tightened. It was right there on the edge.

“I don’t want to end up like Fury.”

There. He’d said it. To someone.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Barton said.

Coulson turned to him. “He left it for me to rebuild.”

“Exactly,” said Barton.

“Before New York, I had believed that my life was supposed to go a certain way. I was committed to that.”

“We all were,” Barton said, starting to feel a little uncomfortable. 

The things that had happened in New York. The stuff with Loki, he didn’t love talking about it. Didn’t really want to go there. The Chitauri scepter Loki had carried had taken things from him. Important things. And it had taken absolutely everything from Coulson. Clint was still trying to sort through it.

“We were committed to lies,” Coulson said distastefully. Fired another round.

“Those lies made it possible to save our world,” Barton said. “Don’t be naïve. What is this really about?” he asked putting his hand on Coulson’s shoulder.

He didn’t answer. Looked down, lowered the gun.

“Is it the girl?” asked Barton.

“Yes.” Coulson let out a breath, felt his shoulders relax. It was time he admitted that, too.

“You always were a romantic, Phil.”

*****

“That bit….,” Skye turned away from her screen when she heard the knock at the door. Not now, this was important. She turned back to the screen, tapped on the keys. She just wanted to be sure.

Yep. It was a match with Interpol. CIA. FBI. 

The knock came again. “What?!” Skye yelled.

“I need to talk,” came the voice from the outside.

He was still here! He was still here. Good.

She swung open the door to see Coulson looking startled with his hand raised to knock again.

“Come in,” she said, grabbing him by his suit lapels, “You need to see this.”

“Skye?”

He shoved the door closed behind him quickly as she took his arm and lead him to the desk pointing down at the screen.

“This,” she said, looking furious, pointing down at the image.

It was Audrey. But, with blonde hair. And the FBI file read: Karla Sofen.

“Huh.”

“I knew there was something off about her,” Skye said, pacing. “The way she reacted, it wasn’t like someone who was sad, there were no tears, she just…”

Coulson shook his thoughts loose. “Skye,” he started. “What I came here to say to you,” he continued.

Skye folded her arms. “Don’t you care?! This woman, whoever she is, we need to find her,” Skye demanded. “Figure out what she wanted with you.”

“Sure, later,” Coulson said calmly.

“Are you kidding me? She put you through the ringer. You should look at yourself,” she said.

“Not right now,” he said, getting frustrated. It was going to be hard to get her to let this go for a moment.

“The man she was with, Paul Ebsersol, he is HYDRA,” she said, trying to make him take her seriously. “And she was lying to you, manipulating you.”

“I said, I don’t care about her. I care about you!” he yelled.

Skye froze. Her eyes scanned his face.

“What?” it came out very small.

“I need you,” he said. His voice had an edge to it. “Now.”

Skye felt herself starting to blush. Everything had been playful, fun, leading up to today. She wasn’t sure she could handle this right now.

“Can you be a bit more specific?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said, walking over to her. “This might clear things up.”

He kissed her, hard, fast, intrusive, wove his hand into her hair, pulled her into him with his other. Then, let her go. 

Skye stared at his mouth. She wanted more of that. Definitely could handle this right now.

“We’re idiots,” she said, looking up into his eyes, sounding as flushed as she looked.

“Yes,” he nodded. He liked what he saw there.

“We agree,” she said. “That’s good.”

He kissed her more slowly this time. The edge was gone. The monster was put away.

“Phil,” she said it like a sigh. He wanted to hear that said so many different ways.

“I need you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/382269?rpp=30&pg=1&ft=hidden&pos=1


	4. Interlude: Roman Girl at a Fountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tasha go to the MET.

“You mind walking?” Cap said, staring down at her four inch heels. “Or, I could swing us a cab.”

They were standing in the lobby at Avengers Tower, the buzz of Tony Stark’s busy life all around them, people coming and going, up and down the elevators.

She was a spy, so, she probably had a good read on him right now. The dilated pupils, the fidgeting. He might be a little embarrassed, but he had nothing to hide. 

Probably hadn’t helped that she’d snuck up behind him and said, “Hey, there, soldier,” in that voice of hers.

When he had turned around, he had to work a little to keep his eyes where they should be. Man, he was terrible at this. But, they were going to spend the afternoon together, and he’d take his time admiring the view and be a gentleman about it.

And she was kind of frowning at him. He hadn’t figured that one all the way, but he suspected she was trying to decide what *she* really thought about it. It wasn’t because she couldn’t read him.

She could read him like a book. Sometimes, she came to the wrong conclusions about what she read, but the initial reading? Let’s just say she had his number.

All he wanted to do this afternoon was read her book.

“Of course I can,” she finally replied, like he was daft. She started walking toward the door before he said anything else.

****

“You look beautiful,” he said, smiling and taking a bite of his ice cream cone.

Seriously. She thought to herself. I’m wearing a dress and eating ice cream with Captain America. Normally, this whole scenario would elicit an eyeroll, but instead she found herself smiling. But, just a little.

The dress had been dug out of her closet from an ages ago assignment. Most of her civilian wardrobe, if it wasn’t tek wear or functional, was mission-oriented. She had thought about putting on one of the dresses she would usually wear, but, she knew this guy. It was floral. Not so tight.

Why she felt the need to impress him was beyond her. After all, he mostly saw her in ops wear and knew what to expect. 

It’s just…there was something about him that terrified her. His sweetness, one. His sincerity, two. That he knew exactly who he was, unquestioning. These were things that she would’ve either mocked or found to be liabilities in the very recent past. 

And now she wondered what she was becoming. Now that there was no more SHIELD to hide behind. No more orders from Fury. It felt too free, too loose. The familiar was so much easier.

“You think so,” she stopped in the street and stared back at him. Slowly licked her ice cream cone.

“Don’t do that,” he said, frowning.

“What?” she asked, raising her eyebrow innocently.

“Testing me,” he said back. “To see if I’m gonna be like the others.”

Tasha swallowed and raised her chin a bit. He didn’t get to tell her how it was going to be. She was the one in control. Then something came loose.

“I wasn’t…” she started.

“Because I’m not,” he said. “I’m not like them.”

He tossed his ice cream into the trash and kept walking.

She caught up to him, or he had hung back. One of the two. She wasn’t sure which.

Snaking her arm into the crook of his, she looked up at him, half-smiled apologetically.

“This is all new to me,” she said.

His face looked concerned. But it wasn’t for her. It was for himself. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this, she thought.

“Me too,” he said.

They started walking again. Strolling. Because, that’s what you do with Steve Rogers, she supposed. A man out of time is not in any hurry.

“So, there’s this thing I want to show you,” he said. “At the MET.”

****

She looked at the painting and back to him. Her eyes were unusually large.

“Tasha,” he asked, “What is it?”

He said he wanted to show her something, but they’d walked all through the MET, looked at different things, had interesting small conversations. Safe conversations, because, that’s what you do in a place like this.

This was not safe.

“Why?” she said, staring back at the painting. But she knew, she knew.

It was of a small girl, standing on tip toe trying to sip from a fountain. From the source. She wasn’t a child and she wasn’t that innocent, *or* that thirsty, now that he’d made her consider it. Dammit. 

“It just felt right,” he started. He tried to put his hand on her shoulder and she just shrugged it off.

Trying to do comforting now. He was a sap. She glared back at him.

“I’ve thought about it,” he said. “What keeps me going,” he continued gazing at her. “By all accounts, I lost. My best friend, the woman that I loved most. Maybe I’ve lost my country, too. I’m not sure about that yet.”

“What does that have to do with me?” she asked, wanting to get to the point.

“I never said it was about you,” he frowned. 

“So, a little girl drinking at a fountain just makes the Captain America inside of you twirl. Right.”

“When we come into this world, we’ve no masks. Where we draw our life from, our source. I told myself I’m not going to be shaken.”

“I already knew that about you,” she replied. “You lost and it didn’t change you.”

“Yes it did,” he warned. 

How did she not notice? She closed her eyes and sighed. All this time, she’d just been trying to keep her walls up, thinking about herself. He didn’t have those walls. He never had them.

“Don’t build them,” she said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“The walls. Don’t do it, Steve.”

“It worked for you,” he said plainly.

“Yeah, it’s worked out so wonderfully for me.” She said, staring at the painting as a tear slid down her cheek. It kind of startled her. She quickly wiped it away, embarrassed. 

“You have too many, and I don’t have enough,” he said, looking over at her, pained. 

“Sheesh, I’m an awful first date,” he said.

****

“We’re not supposed to do this,” he said. Again.

“That’s part of the fun, Rogers,” she said, smiling. Using his last name came easy, felt like they were in mission mode.

“Besides,” she turned towards him. “This was your idea. You said you always wanted to do it when you were a kid.”

“Yeah, but I was being *whimsical*,” he shrugged.

“Picked the wrong gal, I guess.” She just shook her head at him, continued climbing, her shoes in one hand.

“Also, I mean, I can see, *a lot*,” he said, averting his eyes as the back of her dress blew up in the wind for about the fifth time.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she said, continuing on, raising her voice over the wind. “Or, stared at, for that matter.”

“Hey,” he said, pointing at her. “Madripoor was an accident, and I had no idea you were changing.”

“It was only an accident because you got caught. And looking at my reflection still counts.”

He grimaced. Thought he’d managed to recover that one. All of that smooth skin and her red hair just falling at the nape of her neck. Ouch.

“Your staring-not-staring for the rest of that mission? Very unsubtle.”

She finally reached the top. Looked out over the city. He came up next to her.

“Is that when you started trying to set me up with every single female in the agency?” he said, the correlation between these two things dawning on him.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling at him. “Safer.”

“This isn’t too safe,” he said, tearing away his gaze to look back at New York from the top of the Brooklyn Bridge.

“No,” she said, staring over at him.

A gust of wind came up from behind them.

He sat down on the girder, let his legs dangle over the side. Held out his hand when she came to join him.

“How far do you want this to go, Steve?” she asked after they’d spent a few moments in silence.

He stared over at her. His face surprised her. It was a kind of raw version of him. She maybe had seen it once before, when he was about to do something really crazy he definitely wasn’t sure about. He'd definitely been thinking about it.

“Till we’ve reached the source,” he said, looking at her mouth then back at her eyes.

“You scare me,” she admitted, thrilled, when he leaned towards her.

“Good,” he breathed, leaning in and kissing her. Slowly.

Her eyes closed, she felt warm and light. It had been awhile.

When she opened them, he still had his hand on her face, staring at her. Into her.

“You take all of that and throw it at me. It’s not going to shake me.”

“What if it shakes me?” she asked.

“One mask at a time,” he nodded. “You decide what you keep.”

“And what if you don’t like the real me?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

He looked away, considering it. “I expect you’re going to toughen me up a bit,” he turned back, smirking.

“You up for that?” she asked, a little amused.

“I’m up for a lot of things,” he said eagerly.

“Captain Subtle,” she said, with her mouth open.

“Captain Dryspell would like to take you to dinner and discuss this more,” he returned.

That got an actual laugh out of her.

He liked the sound of it.

Standing, he held out his hand looking down at her. 

She took it, let him pull her up and into his arms, into his mouth, his body.

He had read the book.

And wanted to read more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/435708?rpp=30&pg=1&ft=fountain&pos=3


	5. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I had to end it, didn't I? Skoulson plus Jane/Thor. Had fun writing Jane and Skye together.

"Jane...." 

It had a low rumble, like a gathering storm. It was.

"This might be one of those things," Jane Foster said, stopping and turning back to him, calmly, as they entered the common area, "That you just.don't.get."

"Do not speak to me as though I am a child!" he yelled.

She just shook her head and walked towards the elevators. "Then stop acting like one," she shot over her shoulder.

Thor spun around the room, in his mind he heard his father's voice, You must rule yourself before you can rule others. He wanted silence. He wanted something to break. Something suitable to replace, that they would not miss. He lifted the closest couch over his head and turned to release it into the wall.

Phil Coulson was standing calmly staring at him.

Thor just held it there, chest heaving.

Coulson pointed at the floor with his finger.

Thor dropped it unceremoniously and walked away.

 

****

 

"We break things in Asgard, we are not so attached to furnishings and the like..."

He felt slightly better now. He was sitting on the deck with a beer in his hand.

The other man didn't say anything in reply, so he took a swig of his beer. Looked sad at the pitiful amount contained in the bottle.

Coulson grabbed one of the beers from the nearby cooler. "Huh, would've figured you for a lager guy," he said, looking at the bottle.

"It is all that was there," Thor said, sounding a bit sorry for himself as Iron Man's face stared back at him from the Stark Brand Beer.

He cracked the bottle open, sat down on the lounge chair across from him. "Want to talk about it?"

Thor rubbed his face, looked back over at Coulson. "You are offering me a choice?"

"Not if you want to pretend you don't want to talk," Coulson said, calling his bluff.

"Aye, Son of Coul, the women of this world...," he began.

"You don't have to tell me," said Coulson, smirking into his beer.

Thor looked curiously over at Coulson, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And since when?"

"But you weren't talking about all women, you're just talking about Jane," Coulson replied, redirecting the conversation.

Thor sighed deeply. "She hurries through all things. I am not even taken my place on the throne, and yet she asks of me this precarious thing."

"Thor," Coulson said, "What if you actually never take your father's place?"

"And leave it to Loki?! Are you mad?!" He finished the bottle.

"Yeah, because I would totally suggest that," Coulson replied.

"Apologies, friend."

"What's the hangup?" Coulson started. "You love her, right?"

"Yes, yes, surely," Thor said with the utmost sincerity.

"But?" Coulson waited.

"Yes?" Thor asked.

"What's the 'but' Thor?"

"My father considers my affairs with Jane a mere flirtation. He expects it to end, as have all relationships between Asgardians and those of Earth. And then, I will ascend the throne and marry an Asgardian."

"I see," said Coulson. "You can't marry Jane."

"I cannot marry Jane without repercussions," he said, standing to get another beer.

"We don't experience time the way you do, Thor," he said. "You need to understand where she's coming from. She's running out of it. You aren't."

"I am," Thor said, opening it, staring out over the city. "As each day passes. And after years, many, I pray," he said, looking back at the other man, a sad expression darkening his face. "Then, I shall be alone once more."

"Huh," said Coulson blankly, taking a swig of his beer.

 

****

 

Skye watched the woman poke at the elevator button and mutter to herself.

"Somehow, it always turns up," Skye said, jokingly.

The other woman turned around and stared at her. She was pretty, delicate features, small framed. Had an intelligent look about her.

"I'm Skye," she said, extending her hand.

"Is that your real name or does it have something to do with powers?" she asked, curious. And then looked back at the elevator door. Not that curious, apparently.

"Just my name," she answered. "No powers."

"Jane Foster," she said, extending her free hand and shaking when Skye took it.

"Oh, you're the astrophysicist," Skye nodded. "That dates Thor."

Jane rolled her eyes. 

"So was that you two having a fight back there?" Skye asked thumbing towards the hallway with the common room. "'Cause, I totally wasn't listening or anything."

"You're the consultant, right?" Jane said. "The one with the boss and the thing..." Jane smirked over at her.

"Where *is* that elevator?" Skye said.

"Screw it," said Jane, hefting her duffle bag. "I'll take the stairs."

"We're on the hundredth floor," Skye blinked.

"Don't care," said Jane, heading for the stairwell. Her bag slipped off her shoulder, she cursed under her breath. Skye helped her lift it.

"Wow, what do you have in there, a black hole?" Skye snorted.

Jane cracked a slight smile.

"'Cause, you know, the density..hole...thing...?" Skye continued.

"Got it," Jane shook her head, narrowed her eyes. "You're trying to make me like you."

"Hey, just me," Skye said. "You, on the other hand, look like you could use a drink," Skye offered.

Jane thought about it. "Alright," she agreed. They headed to the common area. 

"Do you know your *boss* stole all of my research once?"

"Great," Skye said cheerfully.

 

****

 

"If you steer my question awry again," Thor said, "I am going to throw you into this pond."

Coulson stared at his beer bottle, then to the pool just past. Maybe one too many. 

He glanced over at Thor, who had about a dozen empty beer bottles at his feet. Yeah, definitely.

"Why do you always have to resort to violence?" Coulson asked, shrugging. He had thrown his jacket off and had his shirtsleeves rolled up.

"Not violence, mere jest. Unless you do not answer," Thor smiled. "Then violence," he added with a hint of hopeful glee.

"I'm beginning to feel sorry for Jane," Coulson replied.

Thor groaned with exasperation and fell backwards on the lounge chair, which strained to hold his weight.

"Seriously," Coulson continued, "You're asking her to give up everything; the possibility of a normal life, and hang out with you, hoping you don't end up having to marry an Asgardian because your dad doesn't like Earth girls?"

"What is normal about our lives Son of Coul?" he replied twisting to look at him. "What makes you think Jane wants such an existence? She has searched the stars all her life. No."

"Then, an extraordinary life can be lived in the span of a few years," he reasoned. "Or a decade. If we're lucky, old age," Coulson said.

"So then you choose to live an extraordinary life?" he prodded.

"I didn't," Coulson admitted. "But I got a second chance," he said, letting out a long breath. "So, yes."

"Do you love her?" Thor asked him.

"Yes."

"Then what is the hang-up?"

"I'm a lot older than her," he said, loosening his tie. If this was going to get pathetic, he might as well be comfortable.

"But an extraordinary life can be lived in mere years," Thor said, brightening, smiling, even. 

"Yeah, yeah," Coulson said.

"Do you believe, but not for yourself?" Thor sat up, shining eyes.

"You're such a jerk," Coulson said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You love her!" Thor said, clapping Coulson on the shoulder.

"Ow," he replied.

 

****

 

Skye was looking at Jane behind the bar making them a couple of cocktails. Astrophysicist/mixologist. Why not? It was kind of funny to her that Thor liked someone so different from himself. What did they talk about? Oh. Maybe they didn't talk.

"This is good," Jane said, "This got me through mid-terms," she nodded, sliding the martini glass over to Skye.

She took a sip. Nice. Jane was a gin girl. "I have a couple of friends from SHIELD Academy. The smart ones always have the best parties," she added.

"They tried to recruit me back in the day," she said, rolled her eyes. "Never. No offense," she added, looking over at Skye.

"Hah," Skye smiled. "I thought the same thing. I was a hacker, that's how I ran into them," she said. "Rising Tide..."

"No way!" Jane said, coming around the bar and sitting on the stool next to her. "I used to listen to this female hacker who had a radio show. Was that you?"

"Maybe," Skye said, totally into this person who she had just met and who was hostile to her only several minutes ago.

"A lot of my research was laughed at, invalidated," Jane smiled over at Skye. "And this other crazy person used to hack NASA and SETI and SHIELD and would just drop these little tidbits that I'd use in my research."

"Yes!" Skye said. "This is one of the coolest things that's ever happened to me. And all your research is right on, you've been to Asgard and stuff."

Jane looked over at her very seriously, "I'm totally leaving Thor for you," she laughed. Skye laughed.

"Okay, you're joking, right?" Skye said.

"Yes, of course. But I'm really, really, pissed off at him," Jane said.

"He's pretty hot," Skye said.

"Unbelievably so," Jane agreed, swirling her drink, chuckling, "And, he is going to rule Asgard some day."

"Cool," Skye said. "What's the problem?"

"Because," Jane said, looking over at her. "I am going to get old and die, and he's not."

"But, he loves you, right?" Skye said, after a moment.

"Yes," Jane said, sighing. 

"Are you afraid?" Skye asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you afraid of what you're going to lose, what you'll give up?" Skye continued.

"Yes," Jane said, taking another sip. "I found this guy. I found him where I'd always been looking. And it might all just evaporate."

"Like, when?" Skye asked, deadly serious.

"I don't know," Jane said, putting her head down on the bar. "When he has to be King of Asgard. And I'll be dead..."

"Exactly."

Jane's eyes looked over at Skye. "Why are you so damn plucky?"

"I just don't like to see a good thing go to waste."

"Cute," said Jane. "And you and your much older boss-man. How does that fit into your philosophy?"

"Oh," Skye said, taking a drink, "Definitely don't want to waste that."

 

****

 

They were at the MET, standing in front of this painted enamel piece. 

Her contract with Stark was at its final end. Whether she'd accomplished anything Coulson sent her there to do was debatable. But, it had given them this. 

She was going to miss the MET. The easy language it had created. In the end, it was just a foundation. 

"I've been thinking about a lot of things," he began, breaking the silence. "About time...and what we're building."

Skye thought there was quite a bit of sky in this piece. Billowing clouds, a woman with a bird. And other things, but it was named Hope. He was in a good mood. She was too. 

Ready to come home.

"I just keep coming back to this one simple thing: hope," he continued. "It might sound cliched, I don't know, but, to have something like that restored to you?"

"No," she smiled. "It doesn't. I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't believed in me," she said. "Right from the start." 

The tie he had on today was very blue. And his eyes looked handsome. She'd have to tell him that later, he'd like that she noticed.

"That's what I feel like," he said, stepping closer, "When I stand beside you."

"Sweet," she said, furrowing her brows a little. What was he up to? 

"Whatever is left in me, it's yours," he said softly, taking her hand.

Skye's breath caught as he knelt down."But, all that, just to say, Skye..."

"Yes," she said with a hush.

He didn't get the words out. She was nodding, her hand held to her mouth, trying not to cry.

She watched him take a small box out of his pocket. She laughed-cried as he opened it.

Antique setting, well, of course it was. But it was perfect. Blue stone in the center, like the color of his tie. 

Oh, Phil.

"Marry me," he said, the corners of his eyes crinkled, filled with a half-dozen things if she wanted to stop and list them all.

"Yes."

She grabbed him up off the floor and began planting kisses all over his face.

He laughed a little bit at the tenderness of it, heart-melted. She threw her arms around his neck.

"You're crying," he said, "I thought this might make you a little happy."

"I *am* happy," she said, trying not to cry more. "It's just. I never thought..."

"I know," he said. "Me too."

She kissed him slow and longing. Finished on content.

He slipped the ring out of the box, excitedly, put it on her finger. 

She stared at it.

"Real," she said, nodding, looking up at him.

"Always," he said, staring back at her. 

The way he was looking at her made her want to either crumble in his arms or make love to him immediately.

"Yeah, think it's time to go," he said, grabbing her hand.

He always knew what she needed.

Sometimes, like now, she didn't even have to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/460524?rpp=30&pg=1&od=on&ft=hope&pos=9


End file.
